


The Danse Macabre

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: DHMIS2, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film), Don't hug me I'm scared - Fandom, dhmis - Fandom
Genre: Also they kill each other, F/M, Fellatio, Grinding, Mentions of the trio, Previous deaths, Smut, Smutty, They heck, Tony is a grump, Tony is also a dom, dom/sub themes, they do the do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wakes up, once again, in a predicament which wastes his time. There's nothing more that Tony hates than wasting time. He decides to teach Paige a lesson in their game.</p><p>(Or, alternatively, Tony wakes up after being killed and changes up the game by dominating outside of his turn.)</p><p>(Or alternatively-alternatively, they have sex.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Danse Macabre

**Author's Note:**

> It's a tiny bit slow in the beginning, but the smut is good and plenty once you get past Tony's narration. This is literally just an excuse for them to frick-frack. There isn't enough fanfic of this ship, or fandom.

Tik-tok. Tik-tok. Tik-tok.

The seconds passed complacently, following the flow of time as they were meant to. However, not all entities which were supposed to do so were so obedient. Especially not a certain doll-faced witch of a deity, Creativity.

Demigods had always had difficulties in being civil, let alone friends. Of course their timid relationship was bound to go wrong, sooner rather than later. To be acquainted, sharing in their duties of both mentally and physically torturing their puppet-esque trio, was a dance as finely tuned as Time’s cogwork.

Tony had trouble with sharing; what belonged to him was his, and his alone. He wasn’t capable of accepting that he wasn’t the only powerful member of their dysfunctional little family. So when they’d found neither of them was better than the other, they fought.

The first time they died by each others’ hands, it had been a lovely occasion. The last thing Tony remembered that had happened was Paige kissing him, sliding to the floor in a pool of ink and cosmic fluids. The embrace they’d shared in as the life slipped from them had been tender, willing, and entirely passionate.

They hadn’t accounted the factor that they might wake up.

They did.

Dying hurt, yes, but only a little, more stinging than true pain, and it was a waste of time. However, Tony was perfectly fine with engaging the other spirit in a game of sorts. They took turns-for lack of a better term-slaughtering each other in the most timely and creative ways they could imagine.

It only took a matter of hours for them to reanimate, and nothing ever changed. They experimented cautiously for those first few months after discovering they couldn’t die. There was no way to get around the animosity between them; it was not only instinctual but emotional.

Tony and Paige were polar opposites. 

Creativity represented everything Tony despised, and time became everything Paige strove to destroy. It took centuries of fighting each other and thousands of deaths for even one of them to realize that there was something more beneath their relationship.

Although it had been coated, dripping with opposition and duty for such a long time, there was a deep-rooted attraction between them. Paige was beautiful; that was a given, and Tony was, if much more, a man. 

Fighting was physical, often to the extreme between them. They had never explicitly given the rule of how their fights would end up, but it didn’t take long to develop an understood set of guidelines. Whoever won the round won in all ways.

The space between deaths was just as entertaining as the actual violence itself. For example, once Paige had drowned Tony by paralyzing him with a sharp hit to his solar plexus and pouring paint down his throat. But as fun as the death had been, when Tony awoke, his hands and feet were each cemented in paint cans.

It had been absolutely dreadful getting out of that concoction with Paige sitting just out of his reach, giggling and swinging her legs gleefully. (He’d deserved it, though, for the week prior, he’d strangled her with her own dress.) Still, when he recovered and cleaned himself, Paige ambushed him in the shower and rode him well enough for Tony to see stars. (He had.) 

More often than not, he let her win, just to see what delightful ways she could find to dominate him between deaths. There were some times, on the other hand, wherein he lost his temper and killed her with an unsporting attitude and a cold shoulder until she killed him right back.

They had a rhythm to stick to, a schedule between dying and being taken control over and killing. It was all in good fun, after all. Or at least, that was how Tony saw it. Paige was too chipper to truly see it any other way, he assumed, but then again, it was never safe to underestimate one’s enemy.

Ah, Tony truly loved their game, nonetheless. This time, Paige had killed him by shoving a ballpoint pen so deep into his eye socket he’d hardly had time to register his death before his brain ruptured. He’d been dead before he hit the floor.

And to add insult to injury, she’d been very coy about causing his death, too. Grabbing at his rear and shrieking with laughter when he turned to impale himself on her writing utensil, honestly. It was childish, and he chastised himself for being so inadequate as to let his guard down.

Shaking his head slowly as feeling returned to his newly revitalized muscles, Tony opened his eyes to look around. Of course, the girl had to have her creativity somewhere. His death hadn’t been very eventful (-they’d done eye-stabbings before-) and it was a no-brainer that she would get a laugh out of his awakening.

Tony found himself in a musty (burlap, he could tell from the sensation of his bare skin on the rough fabric) sack, hogtied and in stifling heat. His limbs began to ache with every second that passed, and his muscles eventually returned to a state in which he could move. It took him several good hours to get out from the sack, and he found himself in the attic of the trio’s house.

Sighing, he rubbed at his chafed and rope-burned wrists, his feathers ruffled from the insufferable goddess’ antics. He descended from the attic into the top floor of the house and turned to survey his surroundings.

The climate was much cooler, and he sighed in relief. Due to the quiet atmosphere, it was clear the trio was out on another desperate attempt to live on their own. Not that it mattered, as the only person of his concern was Paige.

Glancing around, he decided to check the most obvious location to find his counterpart. Straightening his suit, he headed off down the hallway, rapping his knuckles curtly on the door of Paige’s bedroom. 

She opened it a few seconds later, almost as if she’d been waiting for him. “You’re awake! What a surprise, I thought I’d so carefully planned your demise!” She sung at him, frowning so hard her dimples crinkled like sheets of paper.

Tony sighed again, long and suffering. “You did indeed, it was well-thought out, darling, there’s no need to pout. I’m back at your side, I’ve no reason to hide.”

Paige appeared to take a moment to consider his words, then shrugged one shoulder and step aside with a grand gesture. “I guess I’ll take your word, as long as your promise not to use your sword.” She teased a little, nudging his clockwork blade towards him with a grin.

He nodded his assent and sheathed the blade, setting his quickly unbuckled belt on the table with her art supplies. She’d been drawing recently, that was apparent from the ink smears and crumpled balls of paper strewn about the room.

Tony cast a fretful gaze across the space, his eyes landing on the bed with only a hint of apprehension rising in his gut at the memory of the last time he’d been in here after reanimating. Paige’s eyes ran up and down his body for a moment, and Tony would have sworn at a later time he could feel her heterochromatic eyes on him.

When she was finished contemplating, Paige stepped forward and grabbed a fistful of his jacket lapels, dragging him forward and down into a fierce kiss. Luckily, Tony had anticipated the move, and he brought his hands down to his adversary’s waist almost immediately. 

She growled at him, jaw tensing, and he barely had enough time to break away from the sharp clack of her teething snapping together. Tutting quietly, he raised one pristine, white-gloved finger and waggled it at her.

“Ah-ah, my dear, you’re going to have to be nicer than that to persuade me.” He purred, voice low and velvety with amusement.

She curled one edge of her lip, leaning forward with dark eyes, speaking with a voice just as rough as Tony’s was. “That’s just not the way to be! You know it!” She practically spat, folding her arms over her chest to accentuate her irritation.

“There’s no need to throw a fit.” Tony replied snidely, taking a single, well-calculated step forward so his boot was directly centered between her two flat-clad feet.

Her ankles swung in to press against the leather of his boot for a moment, then she released him and spun away, dress flaring out around her. Tony took a moment to appreciate the sight, as Paige was wearing one of her shortest dresses.

Paige very well knew what to wear, apparently, and was wearing a tight-topped dress with a flowing skirt, white of course, lined with a red slip, and a sweetheart neckline. Her hips swayed briefly as she walked over to the desk, turning the lamp off and dousing the room in a darkness as black as the ink she bled.

Tony’s gaze was drawn downwards by the movement, and he felt his facial clockhands twitch into a 9:30 position. Swallowing rather dryly, he let his eyes linger on the curve of her body before travelling down the backs of her legs, which were clad in a pair of white lace knee-socks. 

Inhaling softly, Tony recalled the way she felt around him, and gave into his desires, stepping forward and cupping her ass with open palms through her dress. Paige shrieked as if she hadn’t been expecting it bending over like that, (-damn tease-) and whirled from his grip, backed against the desk.

She narrowed her eyes, even as her legs spread slightly to accommodate him as he pressed himself between them. “Naughty clock, it’s my turn to top!” She tutted, wagging her finger at him in a mocking manner; repeating what he’d done only a few minutes before.

Tony felt heat rush through him at her compliance, sensing what she wanted, and smelling it in the sweet scent she was starting to emit. Judging by the state of the dilated eyes she was sporting, her undergarments were most likely soaked through with ink by now. 

“If that’s so, why don’t you make me stop?” He asked in a gravelly tone, one hand resting gently on her shoulder. 

Her hand paused mid-air where her finger had still been wiggling, then turned to reach back and up to entwine her fingers with his. “Because I don’t feel like wasting the time!” She spouted, clutching his hand a little harder than was common for her.

Tony’s lips curled in a nasty smirk and he ran his free hand down her side from where it had been hovering against the bottom of her ribcage, to settle on her hip. She gasped quietly, tilting her head to watch as his gloved hand continued to slide around the the back of her thigh, lifting her and guiding her up onto the desk. 

The time-keeper’s smirk brightened at her compliance, forgetting entirely about his still rehabilitating muscles. Paige swallowed and bit down onto her lower lip, her colorful eyes wide and fixed on his face. 

Tony’s expression grew predatory, and he began to massage her knee with the pads of his fingertips. Her arms, which had been dangling uselessly at her sides, rose to slide around his neck. The taller demigod pressed closer, bending at the waist and effectively caging her against the desk.

Paige whimpered softly in her throat, eyes darkening as she watched him slowly hike her skirt up her legs. The blue-skinned man rested his palms flat on the top of her thighs, his thumbs hooking down to caress the silky, pale skin at the insides of her legs. 

The creative woman tilted her head a little, her pastel hair falling into her face. Tony’s grip tightened on her thighs, nails digging into her skin and leaving dark grey marks as he slid his hands upwards with more confidence.

She mewled and tensed at that, recognizing the danger of his dominance but wanting him still nonetheless. Tony roughly pushed her legs apart, spreading them wide enough and with enough force to make her hips pop. 

Paige’s head lolled freely as he settled between her legs, yanking her forward so she slid up against his body, legs hooked around his waist. Laying flat on her back, hair pooling around her like a halo, Paige looked up at Tony with half-lidded eyes, a single bead of ink dripping from her bitten-through lower lip.

Tony’s hands explored their way from the insides of her thighs to the tops of her legs, then up to her hips. She bit back a tiny moan when he found the zipper of her skirt and pulled it down quickly, wasting no time with teasing. 

She sat up a little from where she’d slumped obediently, arching her back so Tony could get at the corset laces of her dress. Instead of spending the few valuable minutes undoing them properly, Tony simply used his inhuman strength to snap the leather cords and pull the blouse from her skin, exposing her.

Paige huffed quietly in a mix of arousal and irritation at the destruction of her clothing, but any thoughts she’d had about retorting were driven from her mind as Tony tore her skirt in halves, letting it fall uselessly away from her before tossing her ruined dress carelessly to the side. 

She kicked her legs a little, squirming as he loomed over her. “Now, now, Mr. Clock, there’s no time for dawdling!” She ground out through her teeth, nerves rising as he ran his silken gloved hands up her arms and lifted them over her head.

“Yes, dear, but there’s always time for a song, and I think it’s time to make you sing.” Tony purred in response, sinking to his knees before her.

The advantage of his height enabled him to kneel with the desk shoulder-level. His hands ran back down her arms as he went, and she obediently left her wrists together, above her head. Tony leaned in until his face was between her thighs, smirking up at her devilishly.

Paige shifted a little nervously, aware of just how needy she must look, undone before him. The time-keeper nuzzled along her inner thigh with the tip of his nose, cerulean on her white flesh a sharp contrast. 

His teasing only served to excite Paige more, and she fumbled for a pencil beside her, tossing it with little aim at his head. It bounced off his shoulder and he tutted softly, drawing back. “Ah-ah, my darling, you’re going to have to behave. There’s no need to be impatient, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

She scoffed and tossed her head a little, sliding her elbows back and lifting herself up to glare down at him from beneath her eyelashes. Without hesitation, Tony swept her forward and scooped her into his arms, forcing her legs back around him.

Paige squealed and clung to his broad shoulders, the rough fabric of his woolen coat between her legs making her eyes roll slightly. He only buried one hand in her hair and drew her down into a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue.

Growling softly at him deep in her throat, Paige struggled to right herself in his arms, ending up losing herself to the motion of grinding into him. He chuckled into the kiss and ran his tongue along the sharp edge of her teeth, knicking it and drawing blood.

He turned them curtly, breaking away from the metallic flavor of their kiss. It was intoxicating, of course, having Paige so completely wanton. She was using her grip on his shoulders to move, hips rolling a little as he walked them to her bed.

With a glance over his shoulder to adjust his angle, Tony laid back with her atop him, his hand fisting in her hair and pulling her back to kiss him. Using the leverage she was rewarded with, Paige moaned into his mouth and sat up a little, back arching so she could move harder against him.

Tony bumped his hips up lightly in return, the friction making him hiss softly. Ink was seeping out from between Paige’s legs, staining his coat and pants, as well as probably some of his sash. The taller man ran his free hand down her back, biting down on her already swollen lips as her spine caved beneath his fingertips.

Paige mewled, snapping her teeth at him in return and drawing away to pant against his mouth. Tony released her hair, his second hand following the first to cup her ass and pull her tight against him. She gasped, petering off in a quick breath against his jaw before nestling into his shoulder and slumping there.

Tony hummed loudly in pleasure and braced one of his legs up, foot flat on the bed, so it was bent at the knee. Paige whined outright and took a second to climb off his other leg to rut harder against the one he’d adjusted. 

Her gasps began to carry vocality, and he fixed his mouth to the space behind her ear, sucking hard. She leaned into him, bracing her hands over his hand and grinding against him as hard as she could.

He exhaled sharply and jerked his leg up a little, bouncing on the heel of his foot, and she cried out, tossing her head back hard enough for her hair to fall into her face. He reached up with one hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek and moving his leg a little more.

Paige shrieked and practically fell onto him, kissing him sloppily as her body went stiff, hips snapping down a little as she came. Tony smiled, pleased with himself, and he gently held her quivering form to him.

Shaking a little, Paige burrowed against his neck, her face fiercely flushed and her hands relaxing and releasing the fistfuls of the bedsheets she’d taken up in the throes of her pleasure. He kissed the side of her face gently, stroking her hair and wrapping her in his arms.

“You owe me now, my dear.” He murmured, his erection still throbbing in the confines of his pants.

Paige giggled breathlessly and kissed his neck, lips lingering there and leaving a lipstick smear before sitting up weakly and smiling. “Need help?” 

His head tilted and he raised both eyebrows, having intended to allow her to sleep and ignore his problem until it faded away. “You don’t need to. I’ll be fine. You should sleep.”

“I’m not tired, and it won’t be much of a feat.” She said quickly, obviously eager to prove that she was awake enough to rhythm, and therefore, enough to help. 

Tony’s smile returned and he leaned up to seal their lips together sweetly, then relaxed back into the bed. “Very well.” He murmured, his smile brightening as her hands lept to his sash, undoing the clasp and tearing it away.

He unbuttoned the his coat, watching through steadily darkening eyes as she bent over his legs, fumbling with his pants. She managed to free his cock, blowing hot air over it as she tugged his slacks and briefs down. 

Tony inhaled sharply, crimson shirt and his heavy coat falling open to expose his rising and falling chest. Paige slid between his legs after discarding his pants, pushing the rest of his clothes stubbornly off the bed. 

He lay back, one hand reaching out to pet her hair and the other catching his bowtie. He let it drop to the ground as he relaxed, digging his hand into her hair as she descended onto him. Tony hissed, eyes settling on the ceiling. 

Paige hummed a little around her mouthful, fitting her lips around the head and swiping her tongue over the slit there, tasting the salt of his pre-cum. He moaned quietly, fingers scratching at her scalp and pushing her down a little.

She warningly scraped her teeth along the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein with her tongue and bobbing her head a little. Tony exhaled shakily and tightened his grip, raising his hips a little. Paige growled and took him as deep as she could go, suckling hard on him.

Tony gasped and slid his his other hand into her long, soft hair, holding her down and pressing up until the tip of her nose was buried in the black curls at the base of his cock. She looked up at him, cheeks hollowed, and swallowed.

The time-keeper literally saw stars, his breath stolen from his lungs as his eyes rolled back. He lost track of what Paige was doing with her sly tongue, only managing to arch his back and shout her name. 

By the time he recovered, Paige was nestled into his side, ruined undergarments stripped off. “Was that good for you, Sir Clock?” She teased gently, head resting on his shoulder.

“The best yet.” He murmured, his arms draped around her weakly.

She smiled against his neck and gave him a quick kiss before settling back down with a hum. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my dear.” He whispered, his breath wafting through her hair and stirring a few strands.

Drifting off to the steady tick-tocking of his heart, Paige succumbed quickly to sleep. Tony slid from her arms when her breathing evened out, and he crept over to the desk they’d started out on, lifting his clockhand blade and unsheathing it. 

Gazing at the beautiful woman his fate had been entwined with, Tony smiled, and rammed his sword through her chest. She snapped awake, eyes meeting with his, and giggled, blood bubbling out from both the wound her lips. 

He tilted his head, leaning down, and pecked her forehead. “Tick tock, my love.” He whispered, pulling away to watch the life fade from her eyes. 

Ah, how he adored their game.


End file.
